


Betrayal

by Magnetism_bind



Category: The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: M/M, Non Consensual, Rape, Rape/Non-con References, Slavery, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:36:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Seal Chieftain (or King, or whatever his title was) "requests" (read: demands) that in return for the hospitality of his tribe, Esca lend his Roman slave to him. In order not to blow their cover, Esca is forced to comply. Marcus is left traumatized not only by the rape, but by Esca's perceived betrayal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at the the_eagle_kink

_My father would like to see such a slave_

Esca had a suspicion as to why exactly the Seal Ccieftain would desire such a thing, but he kept his worries to himself as they marched with the hunting party back to the village. He kept his gaze from Marcus easily as the Roman was forced to follow behind the hunting party.

That night over the evening meal, the chieftain spoke aloud the suspicion Esca had kept hidden, hoping that it was nothing more than his own dark thoughts.

“Your slave is well-featured. Pleasing, even. For a Roman.”

Esca forced a smile at the laughter from the other tribesmen. “True,” he conceded. “He is not unpleasing to the eye.”

He thought briefly of that first sight of the young Roman, standing in the stands, shouting for his life…how his breath had been stolen by the surprise that came upon him as he lay there on his back, ready to die. How he had not expected anything, least of all from the hand of a Roman…Esca forced his mind back to the present.

“How is he with his mouth?” The chieftain made a gesture that left little to the imagination.

“Adequate.” Esca said shortly.

“Only adequate?” The chieftain raised his eyebrows. “Disappointing. Surely he can be taught better.”

Esca shrugged. “One can only teach a Roman so much.”

More laughter. The chieftain smiled, and voiced his demand at last. “I would like the use of him, for the duration of your visit.” His smile grew even wider, revealing his teeth, “While you enjoy our hospitality.” _It’s only fair,_ his smile spoke the unsaid words.

Esca’s heart was cold within his chest. For all the time that he been in the service of Marcus, the Roman had never mistreated him, never punished him unduly, and never made demands upon his body, though it was well in his rights as master to do so. Esca resisted the urge to cut the chieftain’s throat then and there for suggesting such a thing ( _I swore an oath of honor_ ) and instead nodded his consent.

“As you like.”

“Good.” The chieftain knocked his cup against Esca’s. “You shall have to explain things to him, the first time.”

 _‘The first time?_ ’ Esca questioned silently, even as he answered. “Of course.”

 

After the meal was finished he went to the tent where Marcus was being kept. Esca took a deep breath before he entered, composing his face into neutrality.

“Up.” He ordered harshly.

Marcus sat up, blinking at him. “Esca”

“Did you not hear me?” Esca grabbed his collar, pulling him to his feet. Marcus stumbled, still surprised that the slighter man had the strength. “Out.”

“What’s happening?” Marcus demanded.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Esca said shortly. “Come.” He could not explain, not here, not now. Even if Marcus believed him, the risk was too great.

“Esca.” It sounded like a plea.

Esca turned to look at Marcus, so obviously confused, uncertain of himself now. He pitied the Roman. “The chieftain has want of you.”

“What?” Marcus looked surprised. “What do you mean?”

“Listen!” Esca’s patience broke and he closed the distance between them, gripping Marcus’s jaw tightly. “Do exactly what he wants, and you will live.” Belatedly, he registered the warmth of Marcus’s skin under his fingers, and he dropped his hand abruptly. “Do it for Rome. Survive.”

 

Silently, he led Marcus to the chieftain’s tent.

“Good, good.” The chieftain nodded as they answered. “Tell him to get undressed.”

“Strip.” Esca ordered, the word harsh on his tongue.

Marcus regarded him silently, making no move to obey. Esca struck him across the face, repeating the order.

Reluctantly, Marcus removed his tunic and undid his braccae, sliding out of them. He looked younger suddenly, and strangely vulnerable, as though his age had been stripped away with his clothes. He stood there, hands clenched into fists, eyes on Esca.

“He has a good form.” The chieftain nodded appreciatively. “Tell him to kneel.”

“Kneel.” Esca repeated.

Marcus knelt slowly, keeping his gaze steady, even as the first signs of fear showed in his eyes. The chieftain walked over to him. He touched Marcus’s head, running his fingers through the Roman’s hair. Marcus kept his face down, until the man jerked his head back, peering down at him intently.

“If you bite me, I will cut off your ballocks and feed them to you, understood?”

Marcus’s eyes darted to Esca, waiting to see what the man wanted. When Esca translated, Marcus’s throat went dry. The chieftain tightened his grip on his hair, and Marcus nodded.

The man undid his tunic, drawing out his cock, and waited expectantly. “Go on then. Suck it.”

Esca repeated the words flatly, watching Marcus. For a moment the Roman hesitated, and then he bent his head. Slowly, he took the tip of the man’s cock in his mouth. Once he’d adjusted to the feel of it, he started to bob his head awkwardly.

“You’re right.“ The chieftain glanced at Esca. “He is adequate at best.”

“So I told you.” Esca returned.

The chieftain responded by grasping Marcus’s head, forcing himself further down the Roman’s throat. Marcus gagged, trying desperately not to choke as the man brutally fucked his mouth. His eyes watered; he could no longer see Esca.

“There.” The chieftain pulled back abruptly. “That is enough.”

“Enough.” Esca said unnecessarily.

Marcus was gasping slightly, trying to regain his breath. “Is that all?” He managed, looking up at Esca.

Esca hesitated, looking at the chieftain. He knew the answer already. “No.”

Marcus stared at him, then his eyes darkened. “I should have known.”

Before Esca could respond, the chieftain pointed to a pallet covered in furs by the fire. “There.”

“He wants you over there.” Esca told him, the words soft, as though reluctant to leave his tongue. Marcus stood stiffly and walked over to the pallet, waiting for further orders. There was a resigned stiffness to Marcus’s shoulders as he waited.

“All fours.” The chieftain ordered as he disrobed.

“Get on your hands and knees.” Esca told him. 

Marcus tensed, yet he lowered himself to his knees and dropped his head between his shoulders. 

“He looks like a dog, a good Roman animal.” The chieftain laughed. When Esca made no move to repeat his words, he threw him a sharp look. “Tell him so.”

“He says you look like a dog.” Esca said shortly.

“Does he want me to bark for him?” Marcus shot back, glaring up at him.

“Shall I ask him?” Esca countered. The silence was like a dagger, sharp and lethal. If Marcus had gone for him then and there, Esca would have fought back without any hesitation.

“Your slave has a busy mouth. What does he say?” The chieftain stepped over to them. Marcus glanced at his bare form, and dropped his gaze again.

“Nothing of importance.” Esca said, his voice curt.

“Tell me.” The chieftain knelt behind Marcus. “How long has it been since you’ve fucked him?” He rested his hands on Marcus’s cheeks, parting them to reveal his hole.

“It has been some days.” Esca lied easily. “There was no time on the journey.” All those long, cold night on the journey to the north when often they had laid back to back, keeping warm in the cold winds... The thought had crossed his mind, but he had never spoken of it aloud.

“No wonder he is so tight.” The chieftain pushed his thumb inside Marcus who bit back a gasp of pain at the intrusion. He would not allow himself to look up at Esca.

Esca stayed silent. There were no words for what he felt then.

Marcus’s shoulders were rigid with tension as the chieftain worked his thumb further inside him, twisting it around, opening him up. It was dry and beyond painful, like nothing Marcus had ever imagined. When the chieftain pulled his thumb free, and lined up his cock, he gave in and looked up at Esca.

His former slave looked cool and remote standing there, watching him. Marcus bit back the plea that waited on his tongue. He would not beg Esca.

Yet, as the chieftain thrust his way inside. Marcus couldn’t hold back his whimper at the pain. “Esca. _Esca_ , please.”

“He cries for you.” The chieftain observed, gripping Marcus’s hips tighter to force himself further in.

“He’s my slave.” Esca said woodenly. The sound of his name on Marcus’s lips was like an arrow to his breast. He had never imagined the Roman sounding so broken.

Marcus choked back a sob as the chieftain fucked him in a raw steady rhythm. He could find nothing to focus on through the pain, nothing that helped his mind to escape. The eagle was lost to him, and Esca had betrayed him. There was nothing to live for, no hope left. Marcus wanted to weep, but the last vestiges of his pride would not let him.

He remained dry-eyed as the chieftain pulled out, only to thrust his way back inside with a hoarse grunt. Marcus clutched at the furs beneath him, grinding his teeth against the pain. He _would_ survive this. He would find the Eagle. And he would kill Esca. For Rome.

The thought gave him no pleasure.

 

When he had finished, the chieftain pulled out, straightening up. There was a thin trail of blood and semen running down Marcus’s legs as he tried to stand, his legs trembling. Esca waited until he could stand it no longer, then he reached forward to help the Roman to his feet.

“Let go of me.” Marcus pulled away from him. He stepped on his bad leg poorly and stumbled, dropping to one knee. This time Esca let him take his time. Instead he turned to the chieftain.

“There.” He said it with a note of finality. _It is finished._

The chieftain merely nodded, cleaning himself off with a rag. “Now that he knows what I want, you will not have to attend tomorrow night. Have him sent to me then.”

Esca nodded sharply. He turned to go. "Come."

Marcus had pulled his tunic on, but merely gathered his braccae up in his hands. He didn’t have the strength to fully dress himself; he ached too much.

He expected Esca to send him back to the slave tent. Instead the Briton took him to the main shelter which was deserted at this time of night. “Lie down.”

For a fleeting moment, Marcus thought...and his body tensed...then he remembered, this was Esca. Esca wouldn’t do that to him. But Esca had betrayed him; he could no longer be certain of what Esca would or wouldn't do.

“What?” Esca looked at him questioningly.

“Nothing.” Marcus shook his head.

“I need to see how badly you’re injured.” Esca said impatiently.

Marcus lay down, closing his eyes as he felt Esca’s hands on him, examining him carefully. “Lie still.”

Then Esca washed him clean with a cloth and water from the washing bowl. The touch was cool, impersonal, yet somehow gentle after the treatment of the chieftain. Marcus closed his eyes at the memory. He dimly remembered the man speaking to Esca while he was getting dressed.

“He’ll want me again, won’t he?”

It was barely a question; more a statement of dull surrender. Esca washed his hands and sat back, resting them on his thighs. “Yes.” He said at last. He could not lie about this. It would not help Marcus.

Marcus nodded to himself, pushing himself up to his knees.

“You did well.” Esca spoke no louder than a whisper.

Marcus’s head snapped up. “I did it for Rome, not you.” He said bluntly.

“I didn’t ask you,” Esca started, but Marcus cut him off furiously.

“No, you _told me_. You turned me over to that barbarian like…”

“Like a slave?” Esca finished coldly. He stood, looking down at the Roman.

“I _never_ treated you like that.” Marcus shook his head. He would never have used Esca like the chieftain had him. Any thoughts he might have had about bedding his slave had faded slowly in the first weeks of Esca‘s service. Or rather, Marcus had forced himself to bury them. He would not dishonor himself by taking a man who wouldn’t choose him freely.

“No, but I was your slave all the same.” Esca turned away. “Go back to your tent.” 

 

Once Esca had gone to his own pallet, sleep would not come. Unwanted, the image of Marcus standing there in the tent returned to him. Bare. Unashamed. _Glorious_. No matter the circumstances, nothing could conquer the Roman. Not truly. His cock throbbed hungrily between his legs, and Esca willed himself not to give in. He would not allow himself to take pleasure in Marcus’s humiliation. He could still hear Marcus’s despairing cries. _Esca. Esca, please_. Closing his eyes, Esca prayed desperately for sleep.

Marcus lay on the hard ground of the slave tent, aching and sore. The thought of all that had happened, and the fact that that it would most likely happen again the next night made his stomach heave. He rolled onto his side, and retched into the dirt, coughing until all the bile was gone from his stomach. Wiping his mouth, he lay back down. Still sleep would not come. He saw again the look in Esca’s eyes when they came into the village, when Marcus asked what was happening. _You are my slave_. Marcus shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself. He couldn’t stop shivering, seeing Esca turn away.

 

During the day, they put Marcus to work around the village. He tended the animals, fetching water, and carrying firewood for the cooking fires.  
At night, he went to the chieftain’s tent, submitting himself to the man‘s desires. Marcus bore it all in silence. Usually the man would point to the bed, or push Marcus to his knees, and from there, simply have his way with the Roman. At times he lost his temper, striking Marcus, shouting at him in his own tongue. Marcus kept his eyes downcast, hoping fervently that the man wouldn’t ask him something for which he actually expected a response. He cursed his naivety again and again. He'd been so confident he could get along without knowing the language. Because he had Esca. Marcus had thought Esca would be there, for further translations. Yet Esca was never present again after that first night.

He didn’t _want_ Esca there, witnessing his shame, but he was terrified the Briton had abandoned him. The few times he had seen Esca around the village, there had been no opportunity to speak to him, even if Marcus had dared. His thoughts went back and forth between attacking Esca, and begging the Briton to save him. Some part of Marcus desperately wanted to believe that somehow this would not be the end, that Esca would… Marcus didn‘t know what he hoped. He just knew he had to.

 

_You are my slave_

It would have been so easy to keep up the pretense. Esca knew this. Marcus couldn’t dispute his claim, hindered as he was by his ignorance of the tongue. And even if he could, what would it matter? No one here would take the side of a Roman. Esca could stay here till the end of his days if he chose, make a life amongst the Seal People, keep Marcus as his own slave forever.

His honor would not let him.

The fact that Marcus had believed his betrayal so quickly would have stung, had it not worked so well with Esca’s plan. Improvised as it was, it still worked. He ignored the occasional whispers of _it doesn’t have to change._

If honest with himself, Esca fully expected to wake with Marcus at his throat, death in his eyes. If he tried to run, the Roman wouldn’t get very far. His only hope of escape was death, and Esca knew him well enough by now that Marcus wouldn’t leave this life without taking his revenge first. Esca simply hoped that he would be able to do what he had sworn to do first. 

 

“My father is well pleased with your slave.” The Seal Prince remarked one afternoon while they were hunting in the forest.

“I’m glad.” Esca murmured.

“Yet you do not avail yourself of him?”

The question was curious, not suspicious. Still, Esca told himself to tread carefully. He shrugged. “It seemed unmannered while your father had him in his bed.”

“You are very courteous.” The prince responded.

“Your people have been most welcoming.” Esca returned truthfully.

“Will you stay? Here, in the village?”

“I have not decided. My heart still yearns to see other lands.” It was half truth, half lie. If he had no ties, no obligations, would he stay? It was a question that Esca asked himself relentlessly, and still he did not know the answer.

“You are welcome in my village.” The prince laid his hand on Esca’s arm. “Always.”

“I thank you.” Esca returned the gesture.

 

Then they had spotted Marcus eyeing the chieftain’s daughter. The moment passed in a series of short, halting beats. The rage Esca could hear in his own voice when Marcus wouldn’t obey him at first. Marcus’s face under his blow. The feel of Marcus’s hair under his knuckles as he offered him to the prince. If the prince chose, he could relieve Esca of his debt to the Roman. He would be free. Still, Esca could not deny the relief that washed over him when the man refused to kill Marcus. _As long as you trust him._

“One day I will kill you for this.” Marcus snarled at him.

 _I knew that long ago,_ Esca told himself silently. He looked at Marcus long and hard. “Watch yourself. You may not be so fortunate next time.” He turned to go.

“You think me fortunate?” Marcus shouted at him. “You _dare_ to say that to me?”

Esca whirled on him. “Mind your tongue!” If Marcus kept this up, he would ruin everything. Already the Seal Prince was turning back to look at them.

“Or what?” Marcus leaned in. “What will you do, Esca?”

“Esca?” The Prince was eyeing them questioningly.

“You will regret it.” Esca said shortly. _Would it kill the Roman to listen to him?_

Marcus moved in even closer. “I regret nothing, save taking you with me.”

Esca gripped his jaw, his fingers digging into Marcus’s skin. “You fool!” He hissed. Wariness and confusion warred in Marcus’s eyes, even as Esca pushed him to his knees. “Stay your tongue, or lose it.” He dropped his hand roughly, turning away.

“Your slave is still rebellious.” The Prince remarked when Esca had caught up to him.

“He has a temper.” Esca said shortly.

“You should break him of that.”

“Aye, no doubt.”

Yet, in Esca’s heart, there beat a fierce pride that Marcus’s spirit was still unbowed, that he would not lose his stubborn, Roman dignity.

Frustrated, Marcus stared after Esca. What had that meant? His scalp ached where Esca had wrenched his hair back. What did it matter what he said now? What did any of it matter? He clutched at the grass beneath his fingers, praying to Mithras. _If you have not deserted me, send me a sign._

 

That night the village was filled with a festive air. The prince offered Esca mead as they watched the other villagers gather by the roaring bonfire.

“It is an important day in our village.” He told Esca. “Tomorrow is the day the young men of our tribe become warriors. The ceremony, one of great ritual, will begin in the evening hour.”

“It is an honor to attend.” Esca drank lightly as he listened to the other man tell about the ceremony. The back of his neck prickled as he realized what the prince was telling him. _At last._

Around the fire couples were joining, and laying down together. He’d had less than half a cup of mead, but already his belly was pleasantly warm. The chieftain joined them presently and Esca raised his cup in greeting, subduing the triumphant grin that kept threatening to escape his lips. After so long, he _knew._

“My son tells me you have not been fucking your slave.” The chieftain poured himself more drink.

Esca’s triumph faded away. “During our stay, he is yours.” He fought the possessiveness rising in his belly. Marcus belonged to no one, but if he did, he’d belong to Esca.

“Still, that is generous. Most generous. Come, you must make use of your Roman dog. For tonight, at least.“ He clapped his hands and one of the women came forward carrying a rope.

Esca’s mouth went dry. The other end of the rope was tied around Marcus’s neck, like a collar. The chieftain jerked the rope, pulling the Roman forward reluctantly until he was forced to his knees in the dirt before them.

“Come. The fire is warm. The night, young. Take him.” The chieftain pulled Marcus even closer, offering him in an unintended mimicry of Esca’s earlier gesture.

The heat in Esca’s groin was partly due to the drink and the fire. But he couldn’t deny the lust he felt at the thought, disgusted as he was at the idea of submitting Marcus to that here, in front of all the people.

“No.” He shook his head. “A gift is a gift.” His eyes lingered on Marcus’s exposed throat, golden in the firelight.

“You are most stubborn, yet courteous.” The chieftain shrugged his shoulders. “Very well. If you’re sure.”

Esca nodded, not letting himself answer. He looked away, anywhere else.

“Very well.” The chieftain said again. “Then I will.”

He gripped the back of Marcus’s neck, pushing him down while lifting his tunic. Esca froze, his hands tightening around his cup. They were so _close_. He couldn’t give in now. He forced himself to sit back and watch. Watch as the chieftain stripped Marcus bare, then forced him back on all fours. Marcus’s face was blank, but his hands were clenched tightly against the earth. He winced as the chieftain eased into him with a grunt.

Esca drew in a long breath involuntarily.

At that, Marcus raised his eyes. His gaze locked with Esca’s, holding it steadily even as the chieftain thrust away at him. Esca was stone, watching Marcus inscrutably. There was no sign of life in the Roman’s eyes, and suddenly Esca wanted nothing more than to know the man’s thoughts, even if they held only hatred for him.

He leaned forward, clasping his hands around his cup, fixing his eyes upon Marcus, willing him to speak, anything at all. Marcus’s eyes burned, and he gasped, arching forward as though to escape the chieftain’s grasp. Esca tensed, his breath frozen. His hand ached to touch Marcus’s cheek, yet he kept it stiffly upon his thigh.

The chieftain slumped across Marcus’s back, panting heavily as he finished. And in that instant, Esca half lifted his hand, then dropped it as the chieftain raised his head. Uncertainty wavered in Marcus’s eye, then only pain as the chieftain pulled free, resting his hand lazily on the small of the Roman’s back.

“It is good.” He smiled at Esca with sated eyes.

Esca ducked his head, reaching for more mead. No one, but Marcus saw his fingers tremble.

They’d offered him to Esca. Marcus may not have understood the words, but he understood the gesture. And Esca had refused, his face impossible to read in the flickering firelight.

 _What did it mean?_ Marcus wondered as he crouched by the chieftain’s seat. Why wouldn’t Esca take him, now that he was so firmly entrenched amongst the Seal People? Unless this was the sign...no, Marcus dropped his head in weary defeat. It simply meant that Esca had no desire for him. Marcus could not have explained why the thought held so much bitter disappointment. He focused instead on the fire and the couples by it, yet he could not help glancing at Esca. The Briton sat withdrawn to one side, his eyes shrouded in thought.

The chieftain spoke abruptly, laughing coarsely as he pushed at Marcus’s torso. He looked at Esca questioningly.

“Come here.” The Briton said quietly.

Marcus started to get to his feet, but the chieftain jerked him to his knees. He pushed at Marcus again, and Marcus understood that he was supposed to crawl to Esca. Face burning, he did so, stopping a little ways away.

The chieftain raised his cup and Esca smiled, raising his own in return. His smile faded as he drank.

“What is it?” Marcus heard himself ask.

Esca looked out at the fire. “They think I am suffering for lack of service.” He muttered. “They do not understand why I don’t…”

“Why don’t you?” Marcus challenged. The question was still burning away at himself. What reason did the Briton have in holding himself back? What purpose did he serve?

Esca looked down at him. “Why didn’t you?”

The words were quiet, direct, causing Marcus to falter. “I…”

Esca leaned forward, threading his fingers through Marcus’s hair, pulling him closer. “Why didn’t you?”

Marcus wet his lips nervously. They were too close. Too close, and Esca was touching him, his face only a few inches away from Marcus’s own.

Marcus shivered in the night air, his bare skin suddenly cold. Abruptly Esca pushed him away. “Cover yourself.” He ordered, draining his glass. “Then fetch me more drink.”

Marcus did not look at him as he pulled his tunic on, nor as he poured Esca another glass of mead. The hand on his wrist startled him; only then did he look up.

“Stay.” Esca said, pulling him down. “Sit there, and be silent.”

Marcus obeyed.

They sat there a long time, watching the fire burn and the sounds of the night fade away.

 

That night Marcus dreamed about the eagle, standing on a hill. It gleamed in the moonlight, but the shine of the standard paled when he saw Esca standing in the distance beyond the eagle. The Briton’s face was obscured, and Marcus moved forward, to see more clearly. Then the dream faded, leaving him only with the vague feeling that he was not abandoned after all.


	2. Chapter 2

In the morning the boy woke Marcus, gesturing for the Roman to follow him. He led Marcus out into the brightness of the dawn where Esca stood ready with the prince.

“Come,” Esca told him. “We’re going hunting.”

 _They_ were going hunting; Marcus was there to carry the game back to the village. He followed behind them sullenly, watching Esca walk with his arm around the boy. The Briton listened to the boy chatter merrily as they went up into the hills to the forest.

“Shh.” Esca stopped. “Wait here,” he glanced back at Marcus, “the both of you.”

He went one way, and the Seal Prince went another, silently through the grove of trees. Marcus sank to the ground, leaning against a tree. His leg ached and he rubbed at it absentmindedly, while watching the boy wait for the hunters. Marcus closed his eyes and thought of the eagle. From there his mind went easily to Esca, and he wondered again about what had passed between them last night. Unconsciously Marcus raised his hand to his head, wishing that he could forget Esca’s touch.

A triumphant shout from the boy broke into his thoughts. The hunters were returning to the grove with a deer. Marcus pushed himself to his feet awkwardly. He watched them: the Seal Prince gesturing, telling of the kill, while Esca smiled, and shook his head, the boy laughing excitedly. Resentment ate away at Marcus. He knew Esca was a skilled hunter. He had hunted alongside him in Calleva, and on the long journey north. Many times it had been Esca’s hand that procured their meals, not his. Why now this jealousy?

Esca looked up then. “Come on then.” He gestured to the deer at his feet.

Marcus walked over to him, crouching by the animal. The Seal Prince started on ahead, the boy at his side. As he bent to pick up the deer, Esca knelt to wipe his knife on the grass.

“If you were going to run, that would have been an ideal opportunity.” The words were quiet.

Startled, Marcus looked up. Esca’s eyes revealed nothing as he cleaned his knife. Marcus’s first thought had been, _'Without you?_ ' For that he was ashamed. He could not speak the words aloud, so he spoke the next true thought in his mind.

“I have not found the eagle yet.” He answered.

Esca simply nodded. He started back to the village, and Marcus walked behind him all the way, returning to his own thoughts. Esca belonged here, among his own kind. Free. He was not a tame slave; he could never become such a thing. Deep down, Marcus knew he would never wish it of Esca.

Even if he did find the eagle and stole it away, if he managed that… there was still no way he could escape on his own. He still needed Esca. More than that, he _wanted_ him by his side and Marcus hated himself for that.

He clung to his dream, hoping against hope that it held true, whatever it meant.

 

_I thought I’d lost you_

Marcus couldn’t explain the words that had sprung to his lips in that moment when he woke to see Esca above him. So he didn’t try. There was no time for more anyway, not then. For that, Marcus was immensely relieved. He did not yet know what to say to Esca.

He had no words when he slew the seal chieftain. Relief and satisfaction warred in his breast. He asked Esca what the man had said. Esca would not tell him, so Marcus kept his own tongue silent.

Throughout their escape, he said nothing of what was within him. He needed time to find the words, and Esca seemed disinclined to linger in any place long enough to hold a conversation. They kept up the punishing pace until Marcus could go no further. Wet and cold and desperate, he felt a rush of relief when Esca bargained for his freedom. He would set Esca free; he would save him and the eagle.

But the Briton would not take it.

Marcus wanted to turn his cheek into that hand touching him, to beg Esca not to leave him. He watched Esca until the running figure was out of sight. Only then did he let his eyes close as he held the eagle. The rain fell and he was alone.

 

_I will return_

Esca ran faster than he’d ever run in his entire life. The trees passed by in a blur. He kept track of landmarks, noted the hour and ran on. His legs stung, and his chest burned, but he ran on. There was no time for thoughts. He could hear nothing, but the thud of his heart, frantic and wild. _I am free, I am free, I am free._ And so he ran for Marcus. 

 

They had buried the dead, and made their farewells to the remaining few. Only then did they turn back toward the wall. Still they traveled in silence. Esca said nothing about Marcus granting his freedom. He rode at Marcus’s side, hunted for their meals, and tended Marcus’s leg as before. Marcus didn’t dare to speak of it for the fear that rose in his belly whenever he thought what it could cause.

They passed the wall, and Esca still said nothing. The north faded behind them, as they rode onward to Rome.

Two days out from the wall, they made camp in the fading evening light. Esca had been quieter than usual ( _if that were even possible,_ Marcus thought wryly) since they had passed the wall. He couldn’t forget the way the Briton had gazed at it. As though he were turning his back on everything he knew.

“You don’t have to stay.” Marcus said abruptly as they sat by the fire. He could bear the silence no longer. “You’re free now. You don’t have to go to Rome.” _You don’t have to go with me_ , he thought bitterly.

Esca was silent for a long time, eyes on the fire. “Where would I go?”

Marcus looked at him in surprise. “Your people…will they not want you to lead them?” Esca was a chief’s son. A warrior, a hunter. Not a slave. Not his.

Esca snorted. “My people are scattered. The few of them that remain…” He shrugged his shoulders lightly. “I have no people.”

“Briton then, some tribe.” Marcus fumbled with what he wanted to say. Any tribe would be glad to have Esca join them.

“I have betrayed Briton for you.” Esca said at last. “I cannot stay.” Perhaps one day he could reclaim his honor and return, but not now.

“Esca, I never asked…”

“No. You simply assumed I would do whatever you required.” He couldn’t help the words, despite the hurt that flickered across Marcus’s face.

“You were my slave. What was I supposed to think?” Marcus snapped.

“I don’t know. Tell me. How is a master supposed to think?” Esca’s quiet sarcasm rankled.

Marcus leaned in, and Esca tensed. “You know that already,” was all the Roman had to say. He had wanted so badly to kill him. Esca, his traitor slave. But he could not. He could never. The rage he had felt at first had long since faded. Marcus started to speak, but Esca spoke first.

“I never meant for that to happen. It took so long to figure out where they kept the eagle…” He looked down briefly, then raised his eyes abruptly as though he had to face Marcus. “I never wanted to hand you over to him.”

Marcus looked away. “It’s done now.”

“No,” Esca shook his head. “I’m still waiting.”

“Waiting, for what?”

“For you to kill me.” He wanted to live. Despite everything, he wanted to live. But if Marcus required it, he would do this this one last service.

“Don’t be a fool.” Marcus said irritably.

“How is it foolish?”

“Esca, I could no more kill you than I could my self.” Marcus said somberly. “This…” he touched the eagle reverently. “wouldn’t have been possible, but for you. I owe you both my life, and my honor.” He forced himself to stop before he said the next. _And my heart._

“Then we are even.” Esca said finally.

“Yes. We are.”

They looked at each other in the firelight. There were so many things Marcus wanted to say, but now felt he had no right. He waited, the future dark before him.

“Then, I will go with you to Rome.” Esca leaned forward to add another stick to the fire.

Marcus released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The tightness eased in his chest. “I am glad.” he said simply.

 

In the night, Esca was woken by Marcus’s whimpers. He lay there listening, wondering if he should wake Marcus, if his touch would be welcomed or...but another whimper broke from the Roman’s lips and Esca crawled over to him. He could not leave Marcus to suffer, even in nightmare.

“Marcus, Marcus.” He touched his shoulder hesitantly at first, then more firmly. “Marcus.

Marcus’s eyes snapped open. “Esca.” He breathed. “I thought…” He shuddered violently, staring up at the night sky. There was no roof over his head; they weren’t at the village.

“You are far from there.” Esca murmured. “You are safe.” He waited, but Marcus said nothing more. He started to return to his own bedroll.

“Stay.”

Esca stilled, crouching, waiting.

“Would you lie with me?” Marcus asked abruptly. “The cold…I’d be grateful for the warmth.” That part was true, but it’s not the whole truth. If he closes his eyes he’s afraid of what he’ll see. The shadows that lurk just behind his wakefulness still threaten.

Esca nodded, then half shrugged. “I thought you wouldn’t want me near…”

“I always want you near.” Marcus spoke without thought.

Esca’s eyes darkened and he drew in a sharp, stuttered breath. “Then perhaps I should not.”

“Why not?” Marcus was confused.

Esca hesitated. “It doesn‘t matter.” He moved closer to lie beside Marcus, fitting his body to the Roman‘s. “There.”

“Esca…why?”

They were so close. Esca had but to raise his lips to touch the back of Marcus‘s neck. He wondered what Marcus would do if he kissed him there.

“Sleep.”

“I don‘t want to sleep.” Marcus shifted, and abruptly they were face to face. “Tell me.”

Esca wanted to laugh. “If I tell you, will you sleep?” He knew that would be impossible, but he asked anyway.

“Yes.” Marcus agreed, then amended. “Perhaps.”

“I want you.” Esca said plainly. There. He’d said it. Now, there was just the waiting.

Marcus stared at him. Esca gazed back at him in silence. He wished he could see Esca’s face better, that he might know how to tread.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“How should a slave tell that he wants to bed his master? Besides,” His mouth quirks upward into the rare smile Marcus had come to appreciate. He could barely make it out in the dark. “I didn’t, not at the beginning.”

“And now…” Marcus waited, breath tight.

“I want you. Not as a slave. Not as a master, but for my own.” Esca’s voice was quiet, but fierce in the darkness. He resisted the urge to reach for Marcus and instead sat up.

Marcus raised himself up on one elbow, resting his other hand on Esca’s knee. “And I you.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Yes.” Marcus answered huskily. He would not take the words back for anything.

Slowly, Esca lowered his head until his mouth was only a breath away from Marcus’s. “Are you sure?” He murmured.

Marcus closed the distance between them, clasping the back of Esca’s neck, bringing their mouths together. He’d waited so long for this, the taste of Esca.

The touch of Marcus’s mouth was glorious. Esca took his time, savoring the feel of his tongue while he kissed him. Softly his hand stroked across Marcus’s belly, down to his crotch. His fingers traced the curve of Marcus’s cock through his braccae. Deftly, he undid the laces and slipped inside to take Marcus in hand. Without thinking about it, he spoke to Marcus in his own tongue, _I love having you in my grasp. The feel of you in my hand._

Marcus gasped as Esca stroked him, drawing it out tortuously.

“Esca.” It was better than he’d imagined. Esca’s fingers were warm and rough upon his cock. Marcus groaned as the Briton’s nails scraped over him lightly.

“Shhh, lie still. Let me.” Esca kissed his throat, licking it while he stroked Marcus off. With a shudder, Marcus came across Esca’s fingers, clutching hard at his tunic.

“Shhh, shhh.” Esca wiped his right hand upon the fur while he combed his fingers through Marcus’s hair.

“Now, you.” He nodded to Esca’s cock, stirring against his leg.

“It matters not.” Esca told him.

Marcus shook his head. “No.” Slowly, he reached out, sliding his hand inside Esca’s tunic. Dark eyed, Esca stared at him, biting his lip as Marcus’s hand moved on his cock. Wordlessly he spread his legs to allow the Roman better access.

Marcus watched, entranced as Esca arched up into his hand. He worked his way from the hilt of the Briton‘s cock to the tip. Running his thumb over the head, he traced his way down to lightly caress Esca’s balls.

 _“Marcus.”_ Esca pulled the Roman’s mouth down to bite savagely at his lip. He could barely stand it as Marcus’s hand returned to his cock, bringing him off in loose, warm strokes. With a snarl, he sank his teeth into the side of Marcus’s neck as he came.

“Mithras,” Marcus swore. “You have the teeth of a wolf.”

Esca pulled back to smirk at him. “Now the other wolves will know you are mine.“

Laughing, Marcus wrapped his arms around Esca‘s torso. They lay close together for the rest of the night, content at last.

 

Yet in the morning, Marcus woke feeling unsettled. Esca slept soundly beside him, curled into the crook of Marcus’s arm. The Roman tried to shift without waking him, but Esca’s eyes opened as he moved.

“It’s early.” He murmured, his breath warm on Marcus’s skin.

“We should be on our way soon.” Marcus sat up abruptly. His laces trailed over his crotch and he reached down to retie them.

“What is it?” Esca sat up, eyeing him.

“Nothing.”

“Marcus.”

“I’ll get the horses.” Marcus moved out of hand’s reach.

Esca pushed himself up. Silently, he watched the Roman busy himself. When it was evident that Marcus was not coming back to bed, Esca huffed in irritation and got to his feet. Bundling their bedding together, he tied it and brought it over to the horses.

“Are you ready?” Marcus asked as soon as he had it fastened.

“Yes,” He started to say more, but Marcus was already mounted.

“Come on then.” Marcus rode off.

With a muttered curse, Esca pulled himself up and rode after him.

When he finally caught up with Marcus the Roman made no comment. They rode in silence for a few miles, and then Esca reached over to grasp the mane of Marcus’s horse.

“Hold there.” He pulled both of them to a stop, and dismounted.

Marcus glared at him. “What are you doing?” He slid from his horse, ignoring the twinge in his leg.

“What are you doing?” Esca shouted. “Why are you acting like,”

“Like what?” Marcus whirled to face him.

Esca reeled off a long string of unintelligible words. The only bits Marcus half understood translated to _‘Fucking Romans!’_ At last the Briton stopped to draw breath. He started to speak, but Marcus broke in.

“Damn it, at least speak so I can understand you!”

“Oh, like you’ve been doing?” Esca retorted.

“I haven’t,” Marcus faltered.

Esca just shook his head. “Marcus.”

“I’m afraid.” Marcus cut in.

“What?” Esca stared at him in surprise.

Marcus took a deep breath. “I killed him. I reclaimed the Eagle. It is done. And yet.” He stared at the sky helplessly. “I am afraid.”

“Of what?”

Marcus shook his head. “It is foolish.”

“Tell me.” Esca asked softly.

“I’m afraid I will wake in that tent with him standing over me, and you nowhere to be seen.” Resolutely, Marcus lifted his eyes. “I hate you sometimes for what happened there.”

Esca flinched, but Marcus went on. “But then I remind myself that it is done. We are here. You are here with me, and that means…” He struggled to find the words to convey what he wanted so desperately to say to Esca.

“I watched you every night to make sure you made it back to the tent.” Esca’s voice was hoarse, the words strained tight. “I would not have let that happen if there had been any other way.”

Marcus looked at him wordlessly.

Hesitantly, Esca took a step forward. “If I had not said you were my slave, they would have killed you… I was angry, but that does not excuse it. I thought…it would not take so long to find the eagle’s location. I never wanted.” He broke off. “It was never my aim to let anyone hurt you.”

“I believe you.” Marcus murmured.

Esca’s eyes searched his carefully. “Do you?”

Marcus exhaled heavily. “Yes.”

“That changes nothing.” Esca said bitterly. He turned away. “I couldn’t ask you whether it was worth it; I knew it wasn’t.”

“The eagle is worth it,” Marcus said, stung.

“No, it is not.” Esca shook his head. “It’s nothing compared to you. I’m sorry.”

The words propelled Marcus forward at last. He reached his hand out and touched Esca’s cheek. “It is done.”

“Marcus.”

“No, I should never have let my weakness come between us.”

“You’re not weak.” Esca burst out furiously.

Marcus was taken aback by the ferocity of the Briton’s words. He stared at Esca in surprise.

“You held firm. You never surrendered. And I _loved_ you for it. Even when it was still in my heart to hate you.”

“There has been enough hate.” Marcus cupped his jaw, leaning in to kiss Esca hungrily. For a few moments there was no talking, then Esca pulled back.

“Marcus.”

“I want this.” Marcus reached for Esca’s hand, placing it between his legs so that Esca could feel him. “I want this.”

Want surged in Esca’s belly. He gripped Marcus, stroking him forcefully through his clothes.

“Esca.” Marcus groaned. “Esca, I want to fuck you.”

Esca licked his lips. “Here?” He looked around the broad expanse of field. Miles and miles of wide open land. “Now?”

“Here. Now.” Marcus said firmly, then grimaced as his leg reminded him. “But my leg.”

“There are many ways to fuck,” Esca told him. “Some of them more suitable than others. First though, we need a bed.”

While Marcus tended the horses, Esca laid out their bedding of furs and cloaks. He tried to make it as comfortable as possible. Still, it was nothing like what he would have wished to offer Marcus.

“Are you done?” Marcus laughed. “It looks fine.”

“Be quiet and take your clothes off.” Esca told him.

Quickly Marcus undressed then Esca bade him lie down upon the cloaks while he undressed. For the first time Marcus looked his fill upon Esca, drinking in the sight of the strong slender body.

Esca straddled his thighs carefully. “You have a beautiful cock,” he smiled at Marcus. “even if it is Roman.” Leaning down he kissed the tip of it.

 _“Esca,"_ Marcus forced the word through gritted teeth.

“Yes?”

“Unless you want me to come here and now, stay your tongue.”

Esca laughed. “Not yet.” He took out the jar of oil he’d taken from the saddlebags and opened it. Marcus watched silently as he slicked his fingers.

“This makes it easier.” Esca hesitated, suddenly afraid to remind Marcus of the care that had been lacking from the hands of the chieftain.

“I know.” Marcus lay his hand over Esca’s own. “It’s all right.”

“Here.” Esca dipped Marcus’s fingers into the oil. Then he guided the man’s hand between his legs. Hesitating, Marcus pushed his forefinger inside Esca, studying him carefully as he did.

“There, good.” Esca nodded. “Now.”

Marcus curled his fingers and Esca gasped in pleased surprise. Marcus added another finger, loving the way Esca stretched around him. The feel of him.

“Esca.” His cock was straining desperately between his legs.

“That’s enough.” Esca held his gaze while he lowered himself onto Marcus’s cock.

Marcus sucked in a deep breath, throwing his head back as Esca bit his lip.

“Come on.” Esca leaned in, rocking his hips forward.

Marcus’s hands clasped his slim hips, fitting over them perfectly. He marveled at their fit. Esca kept up a steady, aching rhythm, his eyes fixed on Marcus all the while. The sun shone down upon them as they coupled. All too soon Marcus cried out, with Esca clenching tightly around him, as he fisted his own cock. His come spilled across Marcus’s belly, and he laughed almost giddily at the sight.

Marcus felt magnificent with the sun beating down upon his body, and Esca…

Esca eased off Marcus to lay beside him. Their thighs touched on the fur.

“How’s your leg?” He asked, resting a hand on it.

“Well enough.” Marcus answered. “Esca.”

“Yes?”

Marcus rolled onto his side, kissing Esca’s shoulder. “Will you…”

“We should wait.” Esca cut him off.

“Why?” Marcus asked plaintively. “Do you not want...?” What if Esca didn't want him? What if...

Esca’s bark of laughter did nothing to assuage him.

“Oh, I want to, but you need to be well rested before I bed you.” His hand captured Marcus’s jaw. “It’s been a long long journey, and we still have miles to go. Rest. It will be some time.” He ran his thumb over Marcus’s lip. “I want you to enjoy it.”

“With you, I will.” Marcus assured him.

“I know. But still, we will wait.”

 

So they waited, as they rode toward Rome. Yet whenever they stopped to rest they laid hands and mouths eagerly upon each other‘s skin, until exhausted, they turned to sleep. Many nights they spent beneath the open skies, spent in each other’s arms. Esca did his best to keep Marcus distracted, but the Roman was impatient to reach the city’s gates. The weight of the eagle was something he was ready to lay down, having safely returned it to the hands of Rome.

He’d placed his father’s carved eagle down upon Guern’s pyre, as Esca had done with his father’s knife. Marcus wanted to honor the past, but he was ready to surrender it, ready to turn toward a new day. Ready to start a new life, with Esca.

The night before they reached Rome, Marcus could stand the waiting no longer. They’d stopped at an inn on the far outskirts of the city. Through the window, Marcus could see the city walls. Rome was closing in upon them.

Esca came in then from tending to the horses. “The evening meal is set out.”

“Let it wait.” Marcus closed the door.

“You’re not hungry?”

“Not for that.” Marcus kissed him, pressing him back against the door. “Esca, now.”

“What?” Esca broke free to stare at him.

“Now.” Marcus repeated, rubbing against him so that the Briton might know exactly what he meant.

Esca hesitated. “There is no need.” He said slowly. “If you do not truly wish it, we can go on as before.” He was reluctant to press the issue. “You decide. Either way, it will be good.”

“There is every need.” Marcus growled, pushing him hard against the door. He could not explain the deep need to have Esca claim him as he’d claimed Esca, to have the claim mutual and unbroken. In his heart, he knew it was so already. But his body ached for Esca’s touch. He needed to know Esca and make himself known to him, in this as in all other ways.

“I _want_ you to fuck me. I know…” He paused, seeing the look in Esca’s eyes.

“I’m afraid I will hurt you.” Esca said simply.

“So you do want me then?” Marcus touched his cheek, smiling. “I was worried still that you did not."

“Marcus.” Esca gripped his neck, pulling their mouths flush together. “Stop talking like a fool.”

“Show me,” Marcus panted. “How you would have taken me.”

Esca looked at him. “Are you sure?"

“As always, I am sure.” Marcus kissed him again, then laughed in surprise as Esca broke free, pushing him toward the bed.

“Good.” Esca growled. “For I have long since tired of waiting. Strip.” He commanded, pulling off his own tunic as he spoke.

Marcus hurriedly obeyed, shedding every stitch of clothing. He was nervous; but this was Esca. His cock quivered with anticipation. “On the bed.”

Marcus was barely on the bed before Esca had straddled his lap. He groaned as their cocks slid against each other, dry heat running over his skin. Esca kissed him, his hands caressing Marcus’s hair.

“Lie back.”

Easily, Marcus obeyed, looking up at Esca, waiting. For a long moment the Briton just sat there, watching him. Then he leaned in, intent.

“Among my people we mark those we claim as our own.” Slowly he lowered his head and deliberately he set his teeth to Marcus’s collarbone, biting hard until Marcus cried out. Then Esca turned his attention to each nipple, flicking his tongue over the nubs, before nipping at them sharply.

 _“Esca.”_ Marcus arched up underneath him. Esca pressed him back down again, flattening his palm against Marcus’s skin. He kissed his way from Marcus’s chest to his belly. The warm drag of his tongue drove Marcus to whimpers.

He pulled at Esca’s hair. “Esca.”

Esca pushed his wrist down. “Let me.”

“You’re driving me mad.”

“You told me to show you how I would have taken you.” Esca told him. “That is all I am doing.” He sank his teeth into Marcus’s hip possessively.

 _“Ah.”_ Marcus gasped, then, as he focused on the bright burning pain of the bite, he felt warm fingers at his entrance. He tensed automatically.

“Shhh, there…” Esca gently touched him there. “It’s all right.” He stroked Marcus until the man trembled beneath his touch. “Spread your legs.”

Marcus did so. Esca leaned down, kissing the insides of his thighs. He paused, looking up at Marcus. “It would be a little easier with you on your belly.”

“No.” Marcus was adamant on this. “I want to see you.”

Esca nodded. “I thought that’s what you would say.” He stroked across Marcus’s hole again, and the Roman inhaled sharply.

Esca leaned back, admiring the sight of Marcus spread beneath him. He’d waited so long for this. Esca wanted to preserve this moment forever. The feel of the Roman’s thighs beneath his own. The rise and fall of his chest, as he waited for Esca to move. The faint sheen of sweat on Marcus’s forehead, as he licked his lips, still waiting. The marks Esca had left upon him, reddened against his skin.

“What are you waiting for?” Marcus reached up to touch his jaw. Esca turned his cheek into his hand, kissing Marcus’s palm.

Marcus shivered at the soft press of Esca’s lips, his mind empty of everything save the Briton’s touch.

Esca licked Marcus’s palm. He mouthed tender kisses to his wrist, glancing up at the Roman.

“You’re very quiet.”

“I‘m trying to be patient.” Marcus licked his lips. “But you make it very difficult.”

“Good.” Esca moved off him. Marcus made a low whine of desperation in his throat.

Esca pulled the oil out of the bag and crawled back on top of Marcus. He settled there comfortably, as if he’d been sitting atop Romans all his life. Marcus rested his head on his arm and watched him.

Esca slicked his fingers, smirking at him. “Soon you won’t be so quiet.“

“Is that a challenge?“ Marcus laughed.

“Just a statement.“ Esca slowly eased a finger inside him.

Marcus chuckled, but started to tense. Esca’s hand rested on his belly. “There….” He rubbed a smooth circle with the pad of his thumb. Marcus forced himself to focus on that. He didn’t try to ignore the finger pushing further inside him, just…

 _“Ahhh.”_ He gasped as Esca curled his finger slightly.

“There.” Esca smiled. “Now he speaks.”

“You.” Marcus panted, as Esca did it again, sending the same ripples of pleasure through him. “fight unfairly.”

“Says the Roman.” Esca scoffed.

Marcus’s hand tightened on the blanket beneath them. Esca added another finger, scissoring them, stretching him open. It hurt, but not as badly as Marcus had feared. The relief rushed through him.

“Still, it got you where I wanted you,” Esca murmured, leaning down to bite at Marcus’s lower lip. “Underneath me.”

Marcus growled at him, kissing him harshly. “Do it already.”

“Patience.”

_“Esca.”_

Esca shifted his position, the tip of his cock nudging at Marcus. “Are you ready then?”

Marcus growled again. _“Esca.”_

Esca thrust in, tightening his grip on Marcus’s hips as he did. This…this was exquisite. He pushed in further, then paused, looking down at Marcus.

“Mithras,” Marcus gasped. “You feel…”

“How?” Esca asked curiously, resting his weight on his fists.

“Bigger than you look.” Marcus managed.

Esca snorted. “If this your attempt at flattery, you’ll have to do better.” He rolled his hips, making Marcus gasp again.

Marcus’s hands slid up his thighs. “If I were going to flatter you, I would have said that you have a smile I find pleasing, and would like to see more of it.”

Esca stilled, looking down at him with a strange expression on his face. Marcus gazed back at him, wondering if he had spoken wrongly, whether he should have left it unsaid.

“You surprise me.” Esca muttered at last.

“It’s only fair,” Marcus responded. “You’ve surprised me plenty of times.”

Esca stared at him wordlessly, and then he threw back his head and laughed. Smiling, half in amusement, half in shyness, he withdrew most of the way.

“What’re you,” Marcus started to ask.

“Shh.” Esca pushed back in. He repeated this several times, until Marcus was panting underneath him, gripping at his ass.

“Esca, fuck.” Marcus moaned as Esca wrapped a hand around his cock. The Briton stroked him in time with his thrusts until Marcus spilled over his hand and belly with a shout. Esca arched his back, gasping, as Marcus’s shudders of pleasure tipped him over the edge. With a sigh of contentment, he draped himself over Marcus’s torso.

Marcus wrapped his arm around him and closed his eyes.

 

Esca awoke groggily a few hours later. The candle had blown out; the room was dark. He’d softened, but still lay inside Marcus. Slowly, trying not to wake the other man, he eased out. Marcus murmured in his sleep, but didn’t wake. Which only served to tell Esca how weary the Roman must be.

He got up and padded over to the washing bowl. Dipping a rag into the pitcher, he wrung it out and returned to the bed. Swiftly, gently, he cleaned Marcus off. When he was done, he dropped the rag to the floor and got back into bed. Laying beside Marcus he watched the other man till he finally drifted off to sleep.

 

The morning sun woke Marcus at last. He blinked and turned away from it. The warm form he was wrapped around moved and muttered something. Marcus opened one eye. Esca was curled up alongside him, still asleep. Marcus smiled, pressing a open-mouthed kiss to the Briton’s bare shoulder.

“You’re awake. I can tell.”

“I am sleeping.” Esca rolled over onto his back. “Who knows where we’ll be tonight?”

“What do you mean by that?” Marcus sat up.

“You will return the eagle to Rome. Rome will want to reward you.” Esca slid out of bed and went over to the table. The wine they bought yesterday, but not drunk still stood there. He poured a cup and drank.

“Esca. _We_ return the eagle to Rome.” Marcus swung his legs over the side of the bed, watching the Briton intently. “I could not have done this without you. I will not do the rest without you."

Esca set his cup down. “I didn’t say I wasn’t going. I’m just prepared.”

Marcus got out of bed and walked over to him. Esca still faced away from him, so Marcus pressed his body up against the slighter man. “Prepared for what?”

“For Rome to take you back.” Esca murmured.

“Rome cannot have me.” Marcus declared. He ran his hands down Esca’s form, caressing his cheeks, rubbing himself against the Briton. “I am yours. If you want me.”

“Always.” Esca pushed back against him.

With a surge of pleasure, Marcus lifted him, turning him so that he could see Esca’s face. The Briton’s eyes were intent on his, his mouth curved in silence. 

“Esca.” Marcus pushed him back onto the table, nuzzling at his belly. Esca’s cock was rubbing against him. Marcus hesitated briefly, then lowered his head.

Esca’s head fell back in surprise, hitting the table. “Fuck.”

Marcus lifted his head. “Are you all right?”

“Just startled.” Esca pushed himself up on his elbows. “Your mouth.”

“What about it?” Marcus hovered right above the tip, breathing upon it.

“Is rather pleasant when it’s not barking orders.” Esca smirked at him.

“Is it really?” Marcus licked at the head, teasingly, sliding his tongue underneath Esca’s shaft. He continued to tease Esca, but the Briton bore it stoically. Eventually Marcus straightened up.

“Stay there.” He fetched the oil while Esca watched him.

Slicking his cock, Marcus stepped between Esca’s legs, lifting them over his shoulders.

“You do realize there’s a perfectly good bed behind you.” Esca remarked.

“I like you at this angle.” Marcus thrust into him.

“You like me at any angle.” Esca retorted.

“That’s true enough.” Marcus pushed himself further in. “You say you want me.”

“I did.” Esca ground out.

“Then let it lie there for now.” Marcus gazed down at him. “We fuck. We wash. We take the eagle. Then, after that…if you are so certain that Rome will take me back, tell me then where our path lies, together or separate…but leave it till then, agreed?”

Esca looked up at him silently. At last he nodded. “Agreed.” His fingers dug into Marcus’s hips. “Come on.”

“You asked for it.” Marcus fucked him harder, reveling in the way Esca rose to meet each thrust. With a roar, he lifted Esca up off the table, pushing him up against the wall. Esca wrapped his legs around his waist, grinning at him. Marcus leaned in to kiss him, knowing he would never tire of this. Touching Esca, tasting him. He came with a muffled groan, burying his face in Esca’s shoulder. Esca slipped his hand between his legs, jerking himself off harshly. His come splattered across Marcus’s chest. With a soft sigh, he rested his head against Marcus’s own. For a moment they stood there, lost in each other’s skin.

Then Marcus glanced down. “You’re cleaning me off.”

“Get off me then,” Esca nipped at his neck.

Reluctantly, Marcus lowered him to the ground.

Esca grimaced as he cracked his neck. ”I’ve got fucking splinters in my ass.”

“You enjoyed it.” Marcus reached the water first.

“Aye.” Esca agreed, fetching a clean towel. “True enough.” They washed quickly, splashing water at each other.

Marcus reached for his tunic, then hesitated. He was stricken by the sudden thought… _what if Esca was right? What if something happened…_ He sank into the chair, not wanting to face Esca.

“Marcus.“ Esca walked over to him, cupping his jaw in his hands. “Come then.”

“Say it once more before we leave this room.” Marcus demanded.

“You said to leave it.” Esca reminded him.

“Please.” Marcus looked at him pleadingly.

“You will always be mine, unless you chose otherwise.” Esca kissed his forehead.

“I would never.” Marcus lifted him onto his lap, settling Esca between his legs. “You’re stuck with me.”

“There are worse fates.” Esca licked his jaw. “I was lucky.”

“How so?” Marcus nuzzled at his throat.

“They almost sent out another slave in the arena.” Esca leaned back and eyed him. “But I angered the slaver, so he chose me instead.”

“What did you do to anger him?”

“I called him a Roman pig.” Esca nipped at Marcus’s earlobe. “He didn’t take kindly to it.”

“I’m glad.” Marcus murmured. “I’m glad of your rebellious British tongue.” He caught it between his own and kissed him.

“You are partial.”

“Yes, I am.” Marcus rolled them over. “I am lucky. My life would be empty without you.” He kissed the hollow of Esca’s throat.

“Marcus.” Esca kissed him, then freed himself. “We must go.”

With a sigh, Marcus stood. “You’re right.”

 

They continued dressing in silence. After settling the bill with the innkeeper, they rode on into the city. Esca stayed silent as they rode side by side through the bustling streets.

It happens as he thought it would. The surprised Romans greet Marcus with enthusiasm. The eagle is returned and lauded over. They asked him how he managed it, with only a slave. Marcus defends him and turns his back on Rome.

Esca smiles.

_So what do we do now?  
You decide._


End file.
